Monday, July 17, 2017
Settling One Location
This past week has been a roller coaster, and I'm glad that I took the ride. But, getting real: I'm exhausted. My disability does not allow for over-tiredness and I'm very tired. I took yesterday for rest, and it wasn't nearly enough. But I have much, much, much to do; and it has to be done Now.
The whole house is in an uproar but cleaning is out of the question. And the mess leaves me feeling like a bird in flight with no place to land. But I know something.....something my mother taught me.
When I was a kid we moved a lot. I mean A Lot. I went to about a dozen schools by the time I graduated high school and, in fact, I attended high school in three different US states. When I started college, I was no different from my family--I moved house again and again and again. I can't give you exact numbers on some things but I know I've lived in 9 states and I quit counting moves after the 25th.
What my mother taught me is that when life is in an uproar, you tidy the bedroom before you do anything else. Don't worry about clean. Think of peace. If you have a peaceful place to lay your head to rest, then everything else will work out. That's the secret.
So this morning when I was about to despair of which thing to tackle first, I remembered my mother's wisdom. I got clean sheets and changed the bed. I put the laundry in a basket and took it to the washer. I made sure small things were where they belonged. The dresser drawers and the closet were already tidy--it's my own odd quirk: I will leave Huge messes in the middle of a room but stuff behind doors and in drawers is nearly always perfectly neat. I did Not vacuum or dust; that's cleaning, and it can be done whenever. This was about peace.
It only took a few minutes but now when I pass by the bedroom door, I see calm. I see inspiration that, yes, there's order in the universe. I see encouragement. And I see the possibility of rest.
Here's my girly pink room. Pink was my mother's color, not mine, but that's okay.
The room is small but the house is small, and that's okay, too.
Yes, it is old-fashioned and a bit busy but that cheers my heart, and that's a very good thing indeed.
This is my idea of a guest room in a grandma's house. I had to imagine it for myself because, despite an excess of grandparents (I had various extras--long story, never mind), I never had a grandma's house to visit and it's something that I longed for as a kid. When you're an adult you can still satisfy childish longings sometimes so that's precisely what I did. It's restful; it's fun; it's a good place. And, yes, most of the stuff came from years of searching yard sales and flea markets.
But here's what I wanted to say before I went chasing wild rabbits across fields of thought: If you have one settled peaceful location for rest, you can settle yourself and get ready to work at the things that are unsettled.
Life is good.
I can go get busy now that I have a place of peace.